


what can i say? (i’m surviving)

by fivenightsatyeris



Category: LOONA (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Attempt at Humor, Death, F/F, Fluff, Heavy Angst, Heavy dialogue, Humor, I have no regrets, It’s Not That Angsty, Sorry Not Sorry, be not afraid, happy ending... hopefully!, overusage of italics, probably chuuseul for like a moment, unnie-line centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 08:07:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29222172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fivenightsatyeris/pseuds/fivenightsatyeris
Summary: 30, the number on her wrist said.30 days.Kim Jiwoo was gonna die in 30 days.(But for some reason, Jiwoo’s biggest concern was confessing to Kim Jungeun.)
Relationships: Jo Haseul/Jung Jinsol | Jinsoul, Kim Jiwoo | Chuu/Kim Jungeun | Kim Lip
Comments: 7
Kudos: 32





	what can i say? (i’m surviving)

**Author's Note:**

> TW for the WHOLE fic // death !!!!
> 
> originally a socmed au, but now being converted to a fic. title from survivin' by bastille. enjoy!

Kim Jiwoo was born with a curse.

Well, not exactly. She first found out about it when she was 7. 

She was at the hospital with her mother for her grandmother who, apparently, was sick. _Very_ sick, to the point that her mother would cry over it. Jiwoo indeed was young at that time, but she was old enough to know that crying meant something was wrong. 

Whenever her grandmother was asleep, Jiwoo would watch as her mother put her head in her hands and burst into tears. The sight always pained Jiwoo. She didn't like— no, she _hated_ seeing her mother in such a state. Jiwoo would ignore the curiosity of her father's whereabouts growing deep within her and instead walk up to her mother to engulf her in a hug as a way to comfort her. 

  
  


When her grandmother suddenly stirred, eyes fluttering open, Jiwoo's mother quickly let go of her and excused herself, quickly exiting the room with tears still streaming down her face. 

That left Jiwoo alone in the room with her grandmother. Not knowing what else to do, the child got up from the chair her mother left her on and walked over to her grandmother, making a move to hold her hand. Her grandmother patted her heaf gave her a faint smile that would've gone unnoticeable if Jiwoo wasn't attentive enough. Oblivious to what words were behind that faint smile, little Jiwoo smiled back, wider and brighter than that of her grandmother's.

She then went back to holding her grandmother's hand. Jiwoo started fidgeting with it, running her small fingers over the cracked dry knuckles.

Then, Jiwoo saw it.

She turned over her grandmother's hand to inspect what she had seen. Jiwoo frowned.

Her grandmother hated tattoos. So why did she have one that said ‘1’ on her wrist?

Before she could ask about it, her mother returned, claiming that she left quickly because she had to go to the bathroom. Jiwoo's grandmother believed it, and so did Jiwoo.

The next day, she's told her grandmother was gone. 

"Gone?" Jiwoo had repeated. She was in the backseat of her car, staring at her parents with her big round eyes. She thought that it was impossible — they saw her just yesterday, didn't they? She couldn't have gone anywhere. "Where did she go?"

"She's… She's dead, Wooming." her mother told her despite the tears threatening to escape her eyes. But even after that, Jiwoo still did not understand what her mother meant.

"Dead?" she tilted her head innocently. "When is she coming back?"

Though not the one being asked, it was her father that replied, "She's never coming back. She's gone forever."

"Oh."

Jiwoo looked down at her shoes and tried to stop the whimper that threatened to escape her mouth. 

She failed.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


...

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


By the time she was 8, she already knew what the numbers on people’s wrists meant. She figured it was the number of days they had left before they died.

It always started at 30 — it was the highest number she’d seen. Never 31, 32, 33, and so on. Not everyone had them, obviously. If they did, Jiwoo probably would have lost her mind.

  
  


At first, it was just a theory. She wasn't actually sure if she knew when people were gonna die or if she was just going insane. The only person who died after seeing the count go down on their wrist was her grandmother. Which was like, what? Two years ago? She was barely 6 years old, and who knows! Maybe she hallucinated when she saw the number on her grandmother's wrist. Maybe it was never there at all. 

But even with those thoughts, Jiwoo continued with her research. Stried looking up _"I know when people are gonna die. What do I do?"_ up online, but unfortunately she was just lead to some dumb website that told her she was deranged. (It took Jiwoo 2 minutes to understand what that meant. She had to look up what the word's meaning was.)

But one day, she saw her neighbor Mr. Park get out of his car the same time she got off the school bus. He rolled up his sleeves and pulled out a big brown luggage from the trunk of his car.

Then she saw it. The number 12.

So, to prove her theory right, she waited to see what would happen to her neighbor after 12 days. Part of her didn't want anything to happen to him because she's not _that_ cruel, but a part of her also wanted something to happen so that she could have proof that she wasn't going insane.

12 days pass by quickly. And to Jiwoo's disappointment, nothing happened that day.

Until night came.

10 PM, an ambulance pulled up in front of his house.

By 11 PM, he was gone.

Jiwoo, despite not having anything to do with his death (which was actually caused by a heart attack), felt guilty. She should've done something to prevent it. Or at least should've told him about it. Maybe then he would've looked out for his health more carefully, and he wouldn't have died.

So then Jiwoo makes a promise. She tells herself that the next time she finds out someone's about to die, she _will_ tell them.

And there was nothing that was gonna stop her.

  
  
  
  


…

  
  
  
  
  


So turns out, that promise she made to herself was a terrible idea. An absolutely terrible, _terrible_ idea. 

And Jiwoo had to learn it the hard way.

It was her first day in 5th grade. She's 9 years old already, and it's been a year since she figured out what the numbers on other people's wrists mean. She took the seat next to her best friend Haseul during Homeroom period. Jiwoo was about to start doodling on her notebook when their teacher arrived.

He had introduced himself as Mr. Yoo. He was also going to be their English teacher, but all Jiwoo's focus was on the number on his wrist.

4.

  
  


Saying Jiwoo was mortified was an understatement. She was _terrified_. She paid no attention to the orientation whatsover, only thinking of ways she could possibly stop the death of her teacher. Even Haseul tried to get her attention, but it was no avail. Jiwoo felt absolutely sick — she didn't expect her teacher, out of _all_ people, to be the one who's about to die.

(And she was just a 5th grader, for heaven's sake. What 9 year old worries about preventing her teacher for dying?)

  
  
  


Jiwoo was called to the teacher's desk once class was dismissed. When Haseul told her she’d wait for her outside the room, Jiwoo reluctantly smiled at her.

“You weren’t paying attention earlier,” the girl flinched, shaking her head clear. She turned to her teacher. “Are you alright? Is there something bothering you?”

Jiwoo bit her inner cheek, suddenly wondering why her heart was beating a thousand times per minute. At first she wasn't sure whether or not to tell him. Jiwoo took another glance at his wrist; She was suddenly reminded of her neighbor that had passed away a year ago. She quickly looked away with a wince — and if Mr. Yoo noticed it, then he pretended not to.

She took a deep breath before blurting out: “Sir, you only have 4 days left to live.”

(Now that Jiwoo of the present looks back at this, she admits that wasn't exactly her brightest moment.)

That landed her on a 2-hour stay at the detention hall. Which, to be fair, she deserved. But she was only trying to help! She didn't want him to end up in an ambulance similar to how her neighbor did. She had good intentions. 

Worst of it all was Jiwoo not knowing whether or not he listened to her. She didn't dare bring up the topic to him again, not wanting Haseul to wait for her to come out of detention hall two days in a row.

Listened to her or not, Mr. Yoo still died. They said he died in his sleep. Apparently while Jiwoo was in detention days prior to Mr. Yoo's death, he had told four other teachers about his student telling him he was gonna die soon. Which at first they only laughed about, but now that he was _actually_ dead, they were terrified of Jiwoo. Unfortunately, the news of a fifth grader predicting Mr. Yoo's death spread like a wildfire. 

From then on, she never tried to warn anyone about their death ever again. It scared her, and it also had a very negative impact on what people thought about her. Imagine, some kid tells your friend that they were gonna die in 4 days, and it actually happens. Isn’t that creepy?

On a positive note, Haseul didn’t seem to mind the fact that her best friend was some sort of super psychic that can predict people’s deaths. She didn't even doubt it for a second. With eyes sparkling like the stars in the night sky, Haseul asked, “So you can tell when people are gonna die?” 

If Haseul put it like that, then sure! Jiwoo figured, why not? "Something like that, yeah." 

“Oh my god!” Haseul shrieked, like she struck gold in a mine. "That's _so_ cool!"

Jiwoo remembers being so confused that day. Because why, and _how,_ was that cool? In what universe?

A small grateful smile creeps up to Jiwoo's face. "Seriously?" she asked, which Haseul nodded at enthusiastically.

"I mean _yeah_ , that's pretty fricking scary 'cuz you can always see when people are gonna die. That's terrifying!" Jiwoo frowned again, but the other didn't notice and instead continued to talk. "But that's cool too! You're like, a superhero or something."

Then Jiwoo's smile was back, only brighter this time. "You really think that?"

"Yup! It makes you special."

"Even if it scares everyone?"

"Isn't that a good thing?" Haseul huffed, crossing her arms with a sly grin splattered on her face. "No one's gonna mess with us now! Ha ha ha!" 

Jiwoo laughed with her. She looked down at the ground, rubbing the side of her arm shyly despite knowing her best friend for years now. "I guess so." she smiled again.

For the first time in her whole life, Jiwoo wasn't ashamed of her ability.

**Author's Note:**

> let me know what u think!! kudos + comments are greatly appreciated!! or if you’re too shy to comment, you can drop by my curiouscat!
> 
> cc: kimsperior.  
> twt: @stayaftermoon


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